The ghosts of Liberia’s previous speakership conflict are back to haunt the very political establishment that rose from its aftermath.
At the Capitol in Monrovia, where the memories of the intense 2024–2025 leadership crisis still linger, a new confrontation is brewing.
This time, the focus is not on the individual who once fought fiercely to keep the Speaker’s position, but rather on the leadership that ultimately took it from him.
Speaker Richard Nagbe Koon and his deputy, Thomas P. Fallah, are facing a growing rebellion from lawmakers who are reportedly demanding accountability regarding the administration and finances of the House, including outstanding benefits they claim have not been paid.
The dissent has escalated into calls for the removal of the two leaders, transforming an internal issue into a potentially significant struggle for control of the Legislature.
The irony is hard to overlook. The political tactics that helped oust former Speaker J. Fonati Koffa—organized dissent, rival gatherings, contested authority, and the strategic use of attendance—are once again at the heart of a leadership conflict. The only difference is the political landscape. Those who were once challengers are now part of the establishment, and they are learning that the very strategies they used to gain power can also expose their own weaknesses. The playbook has made a comeback, but this time, its authors might find themselves in the crosshairs.
Fron the Koffa confrontation to the Koon-Fallah crisis
The roots of the current turmoil can be traced back to 2024, when a group of lawmakers took action against Koffa, leading to a prolonged institutional paralysis within the House.
What started as a disagreement over the Speaker’s leadership escalated into a fierce battle over legitimacy, constitutional procedures, and the authority to lead the nation’s lower legislative chamber.
Rival meetings began to take shape, with lawmakers arguing over who had the rightful claim to authority. The House became split between competing political factions, and the government’s operations struggled under the weight of this deadlock.
Koon emerged as the leader of the faction opposing Koffa, while Fallah was among those aligned with the political shift aimed at replacing the former Speaker.
Howbeit, the conflict did not end with the announcement of new leadership. On April 23, 2025, Liberia’s Supreme Court made a significant ruling in favor of Koffa, nullifying Koon’s claim to the speakership and deeming the legislative actions taken by the opposing bloc unconstitutional.
This ruling intensified the political and institutional crisis instead of providing an immediate resolution.
Koffa resigned in May 2025, and Koon was subsequently elected as Speaker after his departure.
This transition marked the end of one chapter in the confrontation, but it did not erase the lessons or political precedents established during the struggle.
Now, the House faces yet another crisis, with organized meetings outside the regular chamber and the possibility of lawmakers withholding attendance threatening the institution’s smooth operation.
The similarities are clear, although the current allegations and circumstances must be evaluated on their own merits.
The pressing question is no longer just whether a group of lawmakers can challenge a Speaker, but whether the leadership that arose from a revolt can endure the same pressure tactics if the political landscape shifts.
The revolt over benefits – and the bigger question of accountability
The immediate grievances reportedly include unpaid lawmakers’ benefits and allegations of financial and administrative irregularities.
Reports have also cited questions concerning more than US$5 million in legislative funds and benefits, with dissenting lawmakers reportedly seeking explanations through a 12-count resolution.
Those claims require documentary scrutiny, formal responses from the officials concerned and, where warranted, independent investigation, as a resolution or accusation is not proof of misconduct.
Yet the political consequences of the allegations are already becoming difficult to dismiss.
When lawmakers complain that benefits due to them remain unpaid, while questions arise about the management and accounting of institutional resources, the resulting confrontation becomes bigger than a disagreement over money. It becomes a test of confidence in leadership.
Who controls the institution’s resources? Who is responsible for explaining their use? What financial records can be produced? And how much patience should lawmakers exercise when assurances of payment are not accompanied by a clear, verifiable timetable?
These are questions that cannot be answered by political loyalty alone. Nor can they be resolved simply by urging dissatisfied lawmakers to return to the chamber.
If the grievances are legitimate, they require substantive answers. If the allegations are unfounded, the leadership deserves an opportunity to demonstrate that through evidence and transparent accounting.
The danger is that, in the absence of credible answers, a dispute that might have been resolved administratively can evolve into a struggle over political survival. And once that happens, the original grievance may become inseparable from a much larger contest over who should wield power at the Capitol.
Fallah’s appeal: A call for unity or a warning from a threatened establishment?
In light of the growing tensions, Deputy Speaker Thomas P. Fallah has reached out to his fellow lawmakers. In his message, he recognizes the frustration surrounding delayed benefits, stating that the concerns of his colleagues are both genuine and justified.
He reassures them that under Speaker Koon’s guidance, efforts are underway to collaborate with the relevant government agencies to ensure payments are made.
Fallah also indicated that the outlook is positive and expresses his belief that the issue will be resolved soon.
Howbeit, beneath this reassuring tone, there is a clear political worry: the House risks letting its internal conflicts overshadow its constitutional duties.
Fallah’s call for lawmakers to get back to work goes beyond just an administrative request. It aims to stop the ongoing dispute from leading to a prolonged halt in legislative activities.
He reminds his fellow lawmakers that the people of Liberia have given them the responsibility to legislate, oversee, and represent their constituents. Their absence from the chamber, he cautions, is causing delays in national progress and undermining that responsibility.
His message is clear: lawmakers should claim what is rightfully theirs without neglecting the duties for which they were elected.
However, this appeal also highlights a challenge for the leadership. By admitting that the benefits are overdue, Fallah acknowledges a significant part of the lawmakers’ concerns.
By assuring them that steps are being taken, he asks for their trust in a process with an uncertain outcome.
And by urging their return, he tries to distinguish the rightful demand for accountability from the political strife currently threatening the House.
Whether this appeal will quell the unrest remains uncertain. A message of unity could pave the way for renewed dialogue.
Howbeit, in a climate where trust has eroded, words must eventually be backed by tangible actions.
The lawmakers are being asked to come back to work, and the leadership must provide them with reasons to believe that their return will lead to real solutions.
The arithmetic of rebellion
The current conflict may be more about attendance than speeches. Liberia’s House of Representatives consists of 73 members, and according to Article 33 of the Constitution, a simple majority of 37 members is needed to form a quorum.
Reports indicate that around 40 lawmakers are gathering separately, suggesting that a continued boycott could hinder the chamber’s ability to function normally.
However, it’s crucial to differentiate between obstructing a session and actually removing a Speaker. The current numbers do not confirm that Koon and Fallah have been ousted or that their opponents have met the constitutional requirement to do so.
To remove a Speaker for cause, a resolution must be backed by two-thirds of the House, which means 49 members must support it.
Thus, the immediate threat seems to be legislative gridlock rather than a successful leadership change. A group of lawmakers doesn’t need to have the numbers to remove the leadership right away to complicate governance. If enough members choose not to attend, the chamber may struggle to conduct its business. This could lead to delays in budgets, weakened oversight, and postponed critical legislative decisions.
This situation creates a type of political pressure that can be quite significant even before the leadership issue is formally addressed.
The irony of the current standoff is particularly striking. The House has already faced the fallout from competing gatherings, disputed authority, and political maneuvering outside its usual processes.
It has seen how a battle for control of the Speaker’s position can overshadow the institution’s purpose of serving the entire nation.
Yet, this same institution now seems to be on the brink of another challenge: whether it can resolve political disputes without halting its essential work.
When yesterday’s allies become today’s adversaries
One of the most telling aspects of the current crisis is the involvement of lawmakers who were once part of the coalition that supported Koon.
Political alliances are seldom permanent. Members who once united against a common adversary may find themselves with differing expectations regarding governance, access, financial management, or the allocation of institutional responsibilities.
A coalition can come together with the goal of ousting a leader, yet lack a solid agreement on how to manage the institution afterward.
This highlights a key lesson from political realignments: defeating a shared opponent does not ensure the coalition’s longevity. The ongoing conflict seems to reveal this very weakness.
If those who helped solidify Koon’s power are now among those questioning his leadership, it raises concerns about the stability of the political agreement that initially united the coalition.
Was the original partnership based on a common vision for legislative reform, or was it merely a strategic alliance? Did its members have a consensus on accountability, financial transparency, and internal governance? If their expectations have shifted, can the coalition endure without a fundamental renegotiation of its terms?
These issues cannot be resolved by assuming that every former ally has turned against the Speaker for identical reasons. The lawmakers’ individual motivations may vary, and their claims need to be evaluated based on the evidence presented.
The political message is unmistakable: loyalty from the past does not ensure support in the future.
A leader might secure the Speakership with a majority, but maintaining that trust demands more than just the initial numbers that led to their rise.
The bitter lesson of political precedent
There is a deeper danger associated with the ongoing trend of quorum politics. When political figures utilize attendance, hold parallel meetings, and make competing claims of authority to challenge leadership, they might think they are using legitimate parliamentary pressure tactics.
While lawmakers certainly have the right to voice concerns and seek leadership changes through proper channels, these political strategies can set troubling precedents.
Once a legislature accepts that a divided group can paralyze the chamber to achieve a political goal, future lawmakers may be inclined to resort to similar tactics when their own interests are at stake. This precedent does not belong to a single faction; it is a concern for the entire institution.
Therefore, the current crisis should not only be a concern for Koon, Fallah, and their adversaries. It should matter to every lawmaker who relies on the House to function effectively, every citizen who needs representation in their district, and every Liberian who expects the Legislature to oversee public resources responsibly.
The irony lies not in the fact that political rivals have suddenly recognized the power of dissent, but in the reality that an institution that has already suffered greatly from prolonged internal strife may once again face the repercussions of using procedural power as a means of political survival.
A tactic that seems advantageous when aimed at an opponent can quickly turn perilous when it is wielded against oneself. The institution rarely escapes such cycles unscathed.
The people outside the Capitol are watching
For everyday Liberians, the impact of yet another legislative standoff goes well beyond the individuals in the Speaker’s chair.
The House is set to engage in debates over legislation, examine government expenditures, oversee operations, and evaluate national priorities. The outcomes of its work influence public finances, community development, national policies, and the overall relationship between citizens and their government.
The stakes are particularly high as lawmakers gear up to review the proposed 2027 National Budget.
A House embroiled in a leadership conflict risks losing focus on the critical issues that should be at the forefront of its agenda: How will taxpayer money be allocated? What resources will actually reach local communities? What level of oversight will be applied to government institutions? And how can we ensure that public funds are managed with transparency?
The public has a right to know if the benefits that lawmakers claim are overdue have been accurately accounted for, what amounts are still pending, which institutions are responsible for processing these payments, and what timeline is in place for resolving these issues.
There’s nothing wrong with legislators seeking benefits that are rightfully theirs. However, holding public office comes with a reciprocal responsibility. Citizens can justifiably expect their representatives to pursue legitimate claims while also ensuring that their duties to the public continue.
The argument cannot simply be that lawmakers should set aside their grievances because the country needs their attention. Nor can it be that the presence of these grievances justifies a prolonged legislative standstill. Both accountability and public service must prevail despite the ongoing confrontation.
A choice between repeating history and learning from it
The present crisis leaves Koon and Fallah facing a difficult test of leadership. They need to tackle the concerns raised, offer clear explanations regarding the financial issues, and show that the House can function with transparency.
Additionally, they must convince their colleagues that the institution can rectify its administrative flaws without falling into another lengthy conflict.
On the other hand, their opponents also face a challenge. If they possess solid evidence of misconduct, the responsible action would be to bring it forward through the proper parliamentary and legal channels, demanding an unbiased investigation.
Any calls for leadership changes should adhere to the Constitution and the relevant rules of the House. While a political uprising might draw attention, a transparent process is essential for establishing accountability. Understanding the distinction between the two is vital.
Fallah’s call for dialogue opens a door, but its effectiveness will hinge on subsequent actions. Promises of benefit payments must ultimately be validated against actual payment records, official justifications, and a reliable timeline.
Appeals for unity should be accompanied by a readiness to address the issues that are causing division within the House.
Similarly, lawmakers who call for accountability must be ready to have their claims examined and pursue their goals through lawful avenues.
The alternative is a repetitive and concerning cycle: grievances escalate into factional disputes, which then turn into power struggles, ultimately leaving the institution too fractured to fulfill its responsibilities.
Liberia has already experienced the fallout from such a cycle, and it should not have to go through another drawn-out episode to learn this lesson once more.
The irony that history refuses to conceal
In politics, power often makes the weapons of the past seem appealing while pushing the threats of the future out of sight.
The lawmakers who took a stand against Koffa might have thought their political moves were essential for ushering in a new kind of leadership.
Similarly, those now opposing Koon and Fallah may feel that their grievances warrant equally strong responses.
However, the key question remains: has the House learned to differentiate between winning a political battle and reinforcing the institution that facilitates such confrontations?
The Speakership is merely a position, while the House is a lasting institution. It must endure beyond every Speaker, deputy, coalition, and political faction that temporarily holds sway. This is the core challenge facing the 55th Legislature.
The current conflict could ultimately be resolved through dialogue, financial accountability, a negotiated agreement, or a lawful leadership process.
At this point, no outcome should be seen as a foregone conclusion. Yet, the symbolism is hard to ignore. The political strategies that once transformed the leadership of the House have resurfaced, bringing with them the same familiar tactics of pressure.
The notable change is that the individuals currently in the highest positions are now the ones being scrutinized by these very tactics.
Yesterday, the focus was on whether Koffa could withstand a revolt from his peers. Today, the question shifts to whether Koon and Fallah can endure a challenge reportedly arising from the very political camp that helped elevate them.
Looking ahead, regardless of who comes out on top, the House must grapple with the implications of the precedent it is setting.
The greatest irony of political power is that those who craft the rules of engagement may eventually find themselves ensnared by them.
For Liberia’s House of Representatives, the risk extends beyond a single Speaker losing control; it threatens the integrity of the institution itself.
